


Do You See Fire

by goldenn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon Era, Deviates From Canon, Do not post to another site, Emotionally Constipated Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, M/M, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Post-Magic Reveal, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Song: I See Fire (Ed Sheeran), Uther Pendragon is An Asshole, also arthur really likes merlin's magic, and even though he's not in this he manages to be the biggest dick ever, because communication is wonderful, but don't worry he's not always Dumb about Feelings, but he's still getting used to it and is sort of an idiot, but not in this fic don't worry, don't worry they end up having a Conversation about everything, i started writing this at 1 in the morning, i'm ignoring canon timeline cause tbh idrk it so just, if i do i will mention it in the notes, in real wars people had ways of knowing who was on their side and who wasn't, it just - it fits so well, listen to the song and try to tell me it doesn't fit the magic users on the run. go ahead and try, look i have a lot of feelings and thoughts about this okay, magic people being cool and sticking together and being generally awesome, mostly because he doesn't know how to express his thoughts, no beta we die like arthur did :), or feelings, put this wherever it fits best in your head, secret codes, so he sorta comes off as a dick, so why shouldn't the magic users in albion?, this boy just doesn't know how to express his feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28402830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenn/pseuds/goldenn
Summary: after a hunt gone wrong, arthur and merlin find themselves stranded in some of the more unfavorable parts of essetir. disguising arthur as a commoner, merlin and arthur have to lay low and find their way back to camelot without cenred knowing they’re in his kingdom.only weeks after arthur stumbled upon merlin’s magic, things are tense between the two, despite the danger they’re in. arthur, struggling to align what he’s been taught about magic with who merlin is, can do the only thing he knows to do: close himself off.though after a strange encounter he witnesses between merlin and the tavern owner that hides them from cenred’s men, arthur is unable to keep his questions to himself any longer. the answers he gets rewrite everything he has ever known about magic, and about those who live with it.or:in which there is a code every magic user knows to keep themselves and their allies safe. in an enemy kingdom and trying to keep a low profile, arthur learns about that and so much more.//“do you see fire?”“i see it hollowing souls.”
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 233





	Do You See Fire

**Author's Note:**

> this was written as a birthday present for one of my best friends, and is also the first work i have ever finished, so yay!! and happy birthday :)  
> this came to me at midnight and it's been floating around my head for a bit before i could find out a way to actually write it into a story, so - here. have this. arthur's inner thoughts are sorta an accident but they happened and i'm happy with them so yay, glad it happened.  
> sometimes i have a lot of thoughts about the fact that merlin is apart of a community that is so completely oppressed, and i want him to at least have some connections with them - experiences only they can have - despite his place by arthur's side. he grew up in an environment where he constantly had to hide who he was, and hunith obviously knew about magic before the purge thanks to gaius, so i like to think that she had some idea of how to keep merlin safe outside their home. she probably also picked up stuff from balinor, so there's that too.  
> also, you should totally listen to "i see fire" by ed sheeran. it's great and i was in love with it in middle school, still am.

The trouble started, as most things did, with a hunt. At least, that’s what Arthur imagined Merlin would say, very loudly and annoyedly for everyone to hear, if they were on speaking terms.

As it was, they hadn’t had a real conversation since That Night (yes, it deserved capital letters. That Night changed everything, and not in the way Arthur would have liked). It had been two weeks, and apparently it was an obvious enough change that everyone was noticing. Gaius gave him the eyebrow whenever he saw him (though Arthur suspected he would’ve known whether or not they were obvious about it), the servants gave him and Merlin looks whenever they passed, and Leon was giving him and Merlin increasingly concerned looks and consoling pats. Even his father had asked Arthur to stay behind after a council meeting a week in.

“Did you and that manservant of yours get into a disagreement?” Uther had asked, and it took all Arthur’s princely training to keep his face blank.

“It’s nothing of importance, Father,” Arthur had dismissed. (But it was, it was very important, probably one of the most important things Arthur had learned in his life, and it made it hard to even look at his father these past weeks.)

Uther had just hummed, his eyes glancing to the doors where Merlin was no doubt waiting. Then he dismissed Arthur with a wave of his hand, and Arthur couldn’t have been happier to leave his father’s presence.

It had been raining for four days straight the second week. Which meant that Arthur had to stay inside and couldn’t blow off the steam he needed, couldn’t find a way to sort through the thoughts that were flying around his head. So the growing silence stayed, and Merlin’s shoulders stayed tense, and their eyes never met anymore, and Arthur really wished he could go back to before That Night.

So as soon as the skies cleared, as soon as the ground dried enough for the horses to be able walk without sinking into the ground, Arthur ordered a hunt. Which, of course Merlin had to come along. It wasn’t like Arthur was going to let him be in the castle, _alone_ , without him to protect him if anything went terribly wrong. (Not that Merlin needed his protection. Apparently, it was the other way around. That was just one of the many things Arthur was trying to come to terms with.)

As they travelled through the woods, six knights with them, Arthur tried to breathe and collect his thoughts.

One, probably the biggest and most treasonous thought: Merlin had magic.

Which was hard to comprehend, just, in general. _Merlin_ , his manservant who tripped over his own two feet and was a terrible liar and was generally just a bumbling delight idiot everywhere he went, a sorcerer? Merlin and magic weren’t supposed to be anywhere near each other, and yet somehow, they were one in the same.

Which led to the second thought: every instance that Arthur could remember that Merlin might’ve used his damned magic.

And now that Arthur thought about it, there were a lot of instances. Valiant, Ealdor, the Questing Beast, all the branches that just _happened_ to fall on bandits’ heads ─ the list probably went on for longer than Arthur wanted to contemplate.

The thoughts were so loud, so unorganized, that Arthur nearly missed Merlin stiffening beside him. (Because even though Arthur couldn’t talk to him anymore, didn’t know _how_ , Merlin was supposed to be by his side. That much Arthur knew.)

Assuming it was another one of Merlin’s funny feelings (now that he thought about it, they were probably connected to his magic too ─ how had Arthur gone so long without noticing?) Arthur glanced between Merlin and the path they were on. “What is it?”

Merlin was looking around, his fist curling around the reins of his horse. “It’s silent,” Merlin said lowly. “Too silent.”

Arthur snapped his eyes to the trees around him and strained his ears, and sure enough, the only sounds he could hear was the footsteps of the horses. Holding in a curse or five, he held his hand up, causing his men to immediately halt. “Stay on guard,” he told his men, ignoring the raised eyebrows on Merlin’s face. “Something isn’t right.”

Of course, as soon as he said that, the woods burst into action. Men poured out from behind the trees, armed to the teeth. Arthur secured his grip on the reins of his horse and started barking orders at his knights. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin slip off his horse and duck behind a tree. (Where he was undoubtedly using his magic. Because Merlin could do that sort of thing.)

Arthur jumped off his horse as well, and went sword to sword with two of their attackers. He parried them, using his momentum to force them back. He hit the handle of one sword, disarming one man, and advanced on the other. He swung high, off balancing the man he was fighting. Arthur struck once, twice, three times, and the man fell to the ground. He didn’t hesitate to cut downwards, then turned on the spot and slammed the hilt of his sword against the other man’s temple.

In their place took three other men. Arthur continued to fight, blocking and parrying and cutting them down as fast and efficiently as he could. No matter how many he fought, no matter how many men he cut down, another in clothing bare of any symbols took their place. It was all Arthur could do to fight and not fall, while looking out of the corners of his eyes for a certain bumbling manservant who was no doubt putting himself in unnecessary danger.

After what felt like hours of fighting (which was not an exaggeration, no matter what Merlin would say) things started looking up for Arthur and his knights ( ~~and sorcerer~~ ). Which is, of course, when everything went to hell.

Just as he stood over what should have been the last attacker, Arthur swiped his hand not holding his sword across his face. “Are we all here?” he asked, and one by one his men sounded off. All but Merlin. He huffed, trying to bury to fear that was crawling up to his heart. “Well, _Mer_ lin? Are you going to take all day to answer me?” He stepped over the man, scanning the trees for even a glimpse of his manservant.

“Here.” Arthur could have collapsed in relief when he heard Merlin’s voice, but instead he stomped over to him.

“And just what the hell ─ ” He cut himself off, stopping in confusion. Merlin was crouched over one of their attackers, something metal in his hands. “What is that?”

Merlin didn’t answer for a moment, too busy turning it over in his hands. Then he reached out and picked up another piece of metal, hidden under the man’s cloak, and slotted the two together. Arthur could hear Merlin suck in a breath. Merlin turned to him, his eyes and voice grim. “This isn’t over. It’s Cenred.” He held up the broken sigil, and the fear that had been growing in his chest turned to stone.

Arthur actually did curse this time, and whirled around to call out for the knights. Before he could tell them to prepare for another attack, a woman in rags appeared in between them and the knights. Her eyes locked onto his and her eyes glowed (a pale yellow, not like the golden embers that were Merlin’s when he did magic. Arthur had only seen it once, but once was enough to remember.) Arthur raised his sword again, preparing to dive out of the way of any spell she sent towards him.

Unlike most of the sorcerers he faced, she didn’t scream at him about the sins of his father and his kingdom (rants that were plaguing him more than ever these past two weeks. Ever since he saw Merlin’s eyes go gold and felt his heart continue to beat thanks to Merlin and his magic, all of the accusations that had been thrown at him by sorcerers over the years came back. He couldn’t help but start to think that maybe they were justified in attacking them. ~~That Merlin would be justified in betraying him~~.) She just held her hand out and yelled something in a language he couldn’t understand. Arthur braced himself, already turning to move out of the spell’s aim, when there was a loud crack, some yelling, the ground coming closer to him fast, then ─

─ darkness.

𐩘

When Arthur opened his eyes, the light of the sun was fading from the sky. His head was killing him, and his armor ─

─ wasn’t on him.

Why wasn’t his armor on him?

Slowly, Arthur sat up, wincing at the pounding of his head. “Oh good, you’re not dead.” Arthur turned and saw Merlin sitting next to him, worry and relief clear in his eyes. Then, he saw Arthur looking at him and cleared his throat, looking away. (Arthur wished he didn’t have to do that, didn’t have to hide himself from Arthur. Though, Arthur supposed that he had no one to blame but himself for that. It wasn’t Merlin’s fault that Arthur hadn’t tried harder to know that he could trust him, right?)

Arthur looked away from the back of Merlin’s head, taking stock of where they were. Which was the woods, only Arthur didn’t recognize where they were. “Where are we?”

Merlin winced, and Arthur sighed internally. “Er, well, y’know how we were hunting really close to the border today?” Arthur nodded, and wished they had hunted literally anywhere else. Maybe then his head wouldn’t feel like it was being split open. “And how it was Cenred’s men that attacked us?” Again, Arthur nodded. “Right. Well, I think we might be stuck in Essetir.”

That was one of the last things that Arthur wanted to hear. Instead of screaming like he wanted to, he took a deep breath and sighed ~~very~~ loudly. “And mind explaining what happened to my armor? And the knights? And the horses? And my sword?”

Arthur could see Merlin swallowing back a sharp retort. “Well, I didn’t fancy getting arrested by Essetir’s knights after I managed to drag you away from the sorceress. She sort of made a tree fall, and we got separated from the knights, but I’m pretty sure they started riding for Camelot once they knew they couldn’t get to you anymore, so that’s good. Our horses were with them, so they were unavailable to us. I had to hide your armor and your sword so no one would suspect us, but I have a cloak, so,” he held up a black cloak and attempted at a smile.

Arthur sighed, again. “Fantastic,” he muttered. “We have a cloak and are in an enemy kingdom and have nothing to protect us. Any good news?”

“Well, I’m fairly certain there’s a merchant town that way.” Merlin said, pointing to the north. “We can find something to eat there.”

Arthur looked between Merlin and the direction he was pointing. Then he snatched the cloak out of Merlin’s hand, shaking his still pounding head and huffed. “Fine. We’ll lay low there. And if you turn out to be wrong, I’m making you search for our dinner.” With that, he stood and started off toward the north.

And if there was a pleased part of him after finally having a real conversation with Merlin, he ignored it. He was pleased because of the prospect of food, not because he finally looked his manservant in the eyes for the first time in two weeks.

𐩘

It started to rain again right as the town came into sight. He and Merlin ─ who had been travelling in silence, as they did nowadays ─ had tugged their hoods over their heads, and Arthur was suddenly very glad that Merlin had managed to find him a cloak (not that he would ever tell him that). As they finally made it to the town, weaving between the people still going about their business after the sun had set, something made Merlin stiffen beside him. Arthur shot Merlin a look, but he waved him off in favor of pulling Arthur towards a tavern. (And yes, Arthur followed. Not because it was Merlin pulling him, but because of the food that awaited him, of course.)

After stepping into the tavern, Arthur shivered, only managing to brush off a bit of the water off of himself before Merlin was dragging him to a shadowed booth. Arthur glared at the back of his head, something twisting in his chest at Merlin’s touch. The past two weeks were weighing down on him more the more he let himself think about it ─ the sting of Merlin’s lack of trust, his father’s expectations, and trying to sort out his own thoughts and feelings on top of the duties he already had.

Annoyingly, Merlin’s touch still made his heart shudder, despite the distance he had unintentionally forced between them.

Just another thing about Merlin that made him half furious, half in love. (The second half led to a whole other set of problems that, frankly, Arthur did not have the time or emotional capacity to unpack).

“We need to find somewhere we can lay low, in case Cenred’s men come through the area,” Merlin said after glancing around the tavern.

Arthur let his eyes casually scan the room as well (for safety purposes, not just as an excuse to not look at Merlin in the low light, of course). “Why would Cenred’s men be coming through a town like this? It’s not anywhere near the citadel.”

“It’s hunting season,” Merlin said. There was a hint of bitterness that shone through, which made Arthur glance towards him. Merlin was scowling, and Arthur would bet that he had his fists clenched under the table.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “And?” he drawled. “I sincerely doubt there’s any good game around here.”

The laugh Merlin let out was short and sharp, something that Arthur had never heard coming from his manservant before two weeks ago. “They’re not hunting animals, sire, they’re hunting people.” Their eyes met, and Arthur swallowed at the hard look in Merlin’s eyes. “Magical people.”

Arthur sat back, his eyes widening. “What do you mean, they hunt _people_?” Arthur hissed, looking around to make sure no one was listening.

Merlin snorted. “Camelot kills them, Essetir enslaves them. The woman from before was probably enslaved, come to think of it.”

Well. In all the lessons he had had as a child, _that_ piece of information had certainly never been shared with him. “How…”

“Ealdor _is_ a part of Essetir,” Merlin said dryly. “Even though the border farming villages were spared most of these hunts, merchant towns like this one never did. They only ever came through Ealdor once, when I was young, but it certainly left an impression.” There was a far away look in Merlin’s eye that Arthur didn’t like one bit, but Merlin shook himself before Arthur could do anything. (Though what he would have done, Arthur didn’t know. He was finding he didn’t know a lot when it came to Merlin, these days, and apparently he never did.) “The point is, this is the time of year they always do their sweeps. They can be nightly, in towns like these. No matter where we stay, we run a risk of one of their knights discovering us. Staying in the woods would’ve only guaranteed our capture.”

Arthur sincerely wanted to let out a string of curses, but held himself back. If they were found, Arthur doubted it would take long for word to reach Cenred that Camelot’s Crown Prince was found within his borders, especially when he was likely already looking for him. That was something Arthur _really_ didn’t need happening. “So what do we do then?” The question came out more sharp and biting than Arthur had intended, which was par for the course with how everything in his life seemed to be going. Merlin scowled at him (and before, he had found it funny when Merlin had scowled, because it had always seemed to be in jest. Now, he knew it was genuine, and it just served to remind him that even his relationship with Merlin was close to becoming nonexistent) but before he could respond, a young barmaid stopped next to their booth.

“Evening, lads,” the barmaid said, her voice light and her smile strained around the edges. “Anything I can get ya?”

“Cider, please,” Merlin said, and with a quick glance at Arthur, added, “and ale for him. Stew for both of us, thanks.”

“You got it, darling,” she nodded. Arthur turned away from her, assuming that she’d leave, but she spoke up again. “You boys alright? Dangerous times, these can be.”

Arthur opened his mouth to say that yes, they were fine, thanks, when Merlin placed a hand on his, effectively silencing him. (Which, another annoying thing. He was the _Crown Prince_ , for crying out loud. His manservant’s hand on his own should not be enough to silence him.) Merlin was surveying the barmaid carefully, and she didn’t shy from his gaze, her head held high and her jaw set. “Depends,” he finally said, and wow, was his hand _still_ on Arthur’s? “Do you see fire?”

That was the last thing Arthur had expected from Merlin’s mouth. He wanted to ask Merlin what the hell he was playing at, because hello, they had a nonexistent plan they needed to get back to making if they wanted to survive this. The barmaid spoke before he could even think of how to form his questions, her voice steady and low. “I see it hollowing souls.”

Merlin immediately relaxed, his hand leaving Arthur’s (who did _not_ immediately miss the warmth of it, thank you very much). He smiled at the barmaid (the first real smile Arthur had seen in two weeks, and it wasn’t even aimed at him), who smiled back at him. “I’ll be right out with your drinks then, lads.”

As soon as she was away from the table, Arthur turned back to Merlin. “Would you care to explain what that was all about, _Mer_ lin?”

The relaxed air around Merlin dissipated, and he sighed, shaking his head. “Later, not here.” The sour thoughts Arthur was thinking must have shown on his face, because Merlin added, “I promise, I’ll… I’ll explain it. Just not here, not now.”

Grudgingly, Arthur nodded. When the barmaid brought them their drinks and food, they sat in silence. Usually, Arthur loved their silences. When others were silent around him, even his most trusted knights, it was because of rank or duty or both. With Merlin, he could alway rely on him to never hold his tongue when he didn’t want to. When they were silent, it was companionable, it was comforting, like a warm blanket wrapped around him as they just existed in each other’s company.

Now, it was tense and filled with unsaid things, just as it had been for two weeks. Merlin was in deep thought, that much Arthur knew, but about what, he couldn’t say. (But then again, could he ever? Had he ever truly known Merlin, when Merlin hadn’t been able to share something so fundamental about himself with Arthur? When Arthur wasn’t able to figure it out himself?) In silences like these, everything that swirled in his head was at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to shout and demand why he wasn’t enough for Merlin to trust him. He wanted to curse his father and the law and everything he’d been taught. He wanted to cry and beg for Merlin’s forgiveness, for his father’s actions and for his own. He wanted to ask Merlin about his magic ─ why he learned, what he could do, how much he could do. Most of all, he wanted to ask Merlin to _show_ him magic ─ the glimpse of the gold in Merlin’s eyes had been a constant in Arthur’s mind, and he had caught himself looking for it in the past two weeks, trying to catch a glimpse of even a second of proof of the power Merlin wielded.

Arthur said nothing.

When they were both finished, the barmaid came back, sweeping their tankards and bowls up. She and Merlin’s eyes met ( _again_ ) and seconds after, Merlin nodded, so small that Arthur would have missed it if he hadn’t been ~~staring~~ paying close attention. She left again, her skirts twirling as she went. Merlin turned towards Arthur, and spoke quietly. “When we get up, be casual and follow me.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“It’s how we’re going to stay safe.” Arthur huffed, annoyed at Merlin’s vagueness, but nodded at the sharp look in Merlin’s eyes. (Really, this was getting out of hand. No one ─ ~~not even~~ _especially_ Merlin ─ should have this much power over Arthur’s actions.)

Well, at least the stew made his headache recede.

Merlin got up, and Arthur followed as they weaved through the tables and towards the back door of the tavern. The barmaid that had been serving them stood next to a tall woman with age lines and a scar on her jaw. The woman who Arthur assumed owned the tavern sized Merlin up, and Merlin did the same to her. It was strange, to Arthur, to not be the one having to do the sizing up, but not as unsettling as it should have been. (If it had been anyone but Merlin in front of him, it would’ve been completely uncomfortable and unsettling. He tried to ignore that thought.)

Finally, the woman nodded. “Through the stables, down the hatch. Joan’ll show ya.” Merlin and Arthur nodded, and before they could step away to follow Joan, the owner spoke up again. “Good luck to you boys. And stay out of trouble.”

Merlin gave the woman a crooked smile and bowed his head. “We’ll do our best.”

Which was, admittedly, worse than most people, but Arthur kept that particular thought to himself.

Following Joan led them to the stables behind the tavern, which held only four stalls and one horse. Joan, after shutting the door behind them, opened the door to the horse’s stall. The horse nickered softly, but she shushed it with a few hushed words and gentle hands. The horse stood and stamped once, huffing, before it moved to the left side of it’s stall with guidance from Joan.

“That’s a good girl,” Joan murmured, patting the horse’s side before she stepped back and grabbed a broom. She brushed away the hay that covered the floor, revealing a trap door underneath it, where the horse had been laying. Arthur looked at it with a small smile and an arched brow. It was clever, the way it was hidden.

Joan grabbed the handle and heaved it open, brushing her hands once it was. “There you are,” she said with a small smile. “The knights are set to sweep through here in less than a candlemark. You’ll be safe down here, so long as you don’t make too much noise. In the morning, we can arrange for wherever ya need to go.”

Merlin smiled and took her hand in his. “We can’t thank you enough, Joan.”

Joan scoffed and waved him away, but Arthur could see her blush, even in the little light provided by distant torches from the singular window. “We gotta look out for each other, right? Besides, this is hardly the first time I’ve done this. Now, you lads get down there and be safe.”

Merlin nodded and brought her hand up to kiss the back of it (which, since when did he do that?) “You stay safe as well.”

Joan grinned and stepped back, hands on her hips. “Always do.”

She ushered them down the hatch, Merlin first then Arthur. Arthur looked at her before he finished descending. “Thank you truly, Joan. We’ll find a way to pay you back, I swear it.”

Joan smiled and bent down to pat his hand. “Stay alive, that’ll be the best form of payment we can ask for.”

Arthur nodded, already forming plans to pay back this tavern and these women without his father knowing as he made it to the bottom. With one last wave, Joan closed the hatch, leaving them in darkness.

It remained dark for a moment, before Arthur sighed. “Well, Merlin? Are we going to stay in darkness the whole night or are you going to put yourself to use?”

With a muttered word that Arthur couldn’t quite catch, his eyes flashed gold, the only light before a familiar blue ball of light glowed into existence. Arthur sucked in a breath, watching it illuminate the room with wide eyes.

_Even when he was dying of poison, did he help me._

Arthur shook himself of his thoughts, turning to survey the room they were given. For being underground, it was better than Arthur had expected. There was one cot laying in the far left corner, the opposite side of where they had stepped down from the ladder. There were a few buckets in the corner closer to them, and a pile of blankets in the far right corner.

“Oh good, we have blankets,” Merlin said, walking over to where the blankets laid. He took some and shook them out and held them up for inspection. “And barely any holes in them too. Quite impressive.”

“How did they know we needed to be hidden?” Merlin paused in his actions, and Arthur winced. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but, well. Might as well roll with it. “It was what you said about the fire, wasn’t it?” Merlin didn’t respond, but the tightening of his shoulders spoke for him. “You swore you’d explain later, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur said in a warning tone. “Well, now we’re alone and it’s later.” He clapped his hands together and looked at Merlin with an expectant look.

Merlin sighed and refolded the blanket, clutching it to his chest. He didn’t turn around to face Arthur. “It… well, it has to do with magic.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Did you… speak in her mind, or something?”

That, at least, encouraged a snort from Merlin. He dropped the blanket back to the pile, turning and sitting on the cot. “No.” His mouth was open, as if he was going to say more, when he shut it. He gave Arthur a tired and weary look, his hand curled and pressed against his lips. (He looked so tired, recently. So tired and weighed down and so unlike the boy that had crashed into Arthur’s life, who had upended so much of what Arthur had known. Arthur didn’t like the change one bit.)

“Well?” Arthur tried to stamp it down, but he felt irritation bubbling up in him. This was definitely not the time to start a shouting match.

“It…” Merlin sighed frustratedly, running a hand through his hair. (It had gotten longer, and no, Arthur didn’t know because he wanted to see how soft it was. He was a knight and a prince, he was very observational, thank you very much.) “I don’t know if I can tell you.”

Now Arthur was properly irritated and annoyed. “What, another secret of yours?” He hadn’t meant to sneer, not really, but he couldn’t tamp down the annoyance that was mixing with old anger.

“In a way,” Merlin said, frustratingly vague again. After another moment of Merlin staring intensely at the ground, he lifted his head to meet Arthur’s eyes. (And no, Arthur did not note how the shadows from the angle of the blue light made Merlin look ethereal and otherworldly and made his eyes shine brighter. Again, he was a knight. Observation skills, and all that.) “If… look, I know you’re uncomfortable about this stuff, but I have to know if you’re going to keep all this… magic stuff a secret.”

That made Arthur jerk his head back a little bit. “If you think I’m going to tell my father, or anyone else, about any of this, you’re sorely mistaken,” he said sharply.

Merlin blinked in surprise. “Oh, er,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Good. Good, yeah, that’s good.” He paused again, before clearing his throat. “Well, this is sort of a… community secret. One that keeps us alive, a lot of times.”

“Like a secret code?” Arthur had guessed that much, since it didn’t really blend well into the conversation. It seemed as if subtly was not a big strength in the magical community. Merlin nodded. “What’s it mean?”

“It comes from a song,” Merlin said. He looked down again, fiddling with his hands. “Every magic user knows it, is taught it from a young age. Mum taught it to me as soon as I could talk. Always told me to not sing it in front of others unless they knew me completely.”

 _Which is why I’ve never heard it_ , Arthur thought bitterly. “What’s the song?”

Merlin shrugged. “It’s long, but it’s called _I See Fire_ . We… we sing it, in times when we are persecuted. Times like now, when being burned at the pyre is a constant possibility.” Merlin gave him a pained smile. Arthur couldn’t manage to even attempt to give one back, too busy trying to not let the guilt take over. “Part of it, you sing _And I see fire, inside the mountain, and I see fire, burning the trees, and I see fire hollowing souls, and I see fire, blood in the breeze. And I hope that you remember me_ .” Merlin tapered off, his voice dimming after he stopped singing. Arthur’s damned heart yearned to hear more. “A bit morbid, if you ask me, but we all know it. Most, when they’re led to the pyre make sure that those are their last words. _And I hope that you remember me_ .” He got that far away look again. “Another part of it, we sing _And if the night is burning, I will cover my eyes, for if the dark returns, then my brothers will die. And as the sky is falling down, it crashed into this lonely town. And with that shadow upon the ground, I hear my people screaming out_. They… when there’s a group of us, people usually sing it all the way through. I’ve only done it once, with others like me, before I got to Camelot. The words themselves, they remind us of what we face, but singing it together… it makes you feel like you’re not alone. Like others would stand by you if you were to fall.”

Arthur swallowed, and had to blink away the moisture that had welled in his eyes. His father had preached to him the evilness of magic, the monstrosities it could create. No one ever told him of the people behind it, who might’ve been scared or innocent or just trying to live. Before Merlin, before he met him, he’d never given thought to it. (And couldn’t he describe his entire life like that at this point? Before Merlin and after him, before and after his infuriating manservant who held way too much power over him.) Now, the thought of Merlin as he was when he came to Camelot, all gangly limbs and crooked smiles and bright eyes, sitting with other sorcerers as they sang as if their deaths were inevitable, it hurt in a way Arthur hadn’t expected. (Except, he should have expected it. He always hurt in ways he never had before when it came to Merlin. Always.) “I’ve never thought…”

Before, Merlin might’ve cracked a joke about how yes, Arthur never did think because he was a royal prat with air where his brain should’ve been. Now, Merlin just shrugged and looked at his boots. “You were raised as the Prince of Camelot, sire. No one ever taught you otherwise.” He said that as if it excused it all, as if Arthur standing by and letting his father slaughter what was likely hundreds, if not thousands, of innocents was excusable.

“Then teach me.”

Merlin’s head snapped up. “What?”

Arthur set his jaw. “You heard me. Teach me about the other side of magic. And stop calling me sire, for the gods sake. You always say it wrong.”

There, illuminated by the blue light that hovered in the space between them, Merlin finally smiled at him. It was small, but it was there, and Arthur was counting that as a victory. “Maybe I’m the one who’s right and everyone else is wrong, dollophead.” His smile slanted, and Arthur’s heart did _not_ skip, because he wasn’t a fainting princess.

“Still not a real word,” Arthur said, then walked over and sat against the wall next to the cot.

Merlin laughed, for real this time (a real laugh that Arthur caused, no one else) and turned his head to look at Arthur. “It is real, you prat.” His voice was tentative, like he was testing the waters. Arthur scoffed and kicked his leg out, jostling Merlin.

“Honestly, _Mer_ lin, we don’t have all the time in the world,” Arthur drawled, and this time, when Merlin looked at him, it felt like it always did, that familiar warmth that came with being around Merlin. ( ~~It felt like coming home~~.)

“I… don’t know where to start,” Merlin said with a frown. Then, he added, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? With me, my…”

“Magic?” Arthur finished, as if his heart wasn’t about to beat out of his chest because of the conversation they were about to have. Merlin nodded sheepishly. “If I wasn’t okay with all this, you would’ve known it by now, Merlin.”

This seemed to confuse Merlin. “But… I thought, these past few weeks…” He swallowed. “I thought you were avoiding me because it made you uncomfortable.”

Arthur blanched. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.” Merlin gave him a look, one that told him he knew that he was lying, and Arthur sighed. (Maybe he said it a little too fast to be believable.) “I’m not lying. You don’t make me uncomfortable.”

“Oh? Then these past two weeks have been you at your most comfortable, most relaxed?” Merlin’s tone was sarcastic and sharp, and by the gods, Arthur never thought he’d miss that tone.

Nevertheless, Arthur glared at Merlin, half heartedly kicking him again. “No, you idiot,” he said, and no, his voice was not fond. “I just had a lot I needed to think about, and it wasn’t the easiest organizing my thoughts.”

Merlin laughed, and there was the glint in his eyes that Arthur had missed like a missing limb. “No surprise there, it’s a shock you didn’t keel over from using that head of yours so much.”

That made Arthur laugh, low and long and far too amused for a small quip like that. Merlin joined him, and soon they were sitting there in that hatch under a tavern’s stables, trying to smother their laughs in their fists. Once they controlled themselves, Merlin shook his head with a small smile still stuck on his face. “So?” Merlin managed to ask. “What decision did all your thinking lead you to?”

Arthur shook his head and dragged a hand over his face. “I don’t know,” he mumbled into his hand. Then he raised his face because he _was_ still a Prince, and he wasn’t about to have this conversation talking into his hand. “My whole life I’ve been taught magic was evil. But you practice magic, and you’re not evil ─ you can’t be.”

Merlin smiled at that, a gentle smile that might’ve caused Arthur’s heart to do a few flips like an acrobat. “Glad to hear you can still think kindly of me.”

“Oh don’t get me wrong, at first I was furious,” Arthur said, and he saw Merlin wince a bit at that. “I’ve shared more with you than I’ve shared with anyone, and yet you’ve felt you had to hide something so important to who you are from me. Then I was mad at my father, because once I started thinking, I couldn’t help but remember all the people he burned for doing nothing but try to make their lives a little bit easier to the disadvantage of no one.” Arthur’s fists clenched at that thought. Merlin stayed silent, not quite meeting Arthur’s eyes. “Why didn’t you trust me?” Arthur finally asked. It was the question that had been plaguing him the most. “Did you honestly think that after everything, I would’ve let my father burn you?”

“No!” Merlin said it so quickly and so loudly they both froze for a moment, waiting to make sure no one had heard them. When they heard nothing they relaxed, and Merlin shook his head. “No,” he said again. “It wasn’t about not trusting you. I trust you, Arthur, I do, more than anyone. I just… I just didn’t want you to have to choose between me, and your father and your kingdom.”

“There’s no choice,” Arthur said, perhaps a bit fiercer than he had intended, but it got his point across. “It’s you, Merlin, no matter what. Never doubt that.” (Because that’s what it all boiled down to, didn’t it? Arthur was the Crown Prince of Camelot, his father’s son, but he’d toss aside everything his father taught him if it meant Merlin was safe. He didn’t know when that had happened, when Merlin had become as important as his kingdom, but the fact was that he was, and there was no changing that.)

That had Merlin properly stunned, and for once Arthur felt smug about Merlin’s silence. Merlin stammered a bit, and under the blow light Arthur could see Merlin blushing. “Yes, um, well… thanks. I… you too. I mean, I don’t have a kingdom to choose between, but ─ oh you know, I ─ it’s all for you. My magic, that is. I use it only for you, ever since coming to Camelot. Well, that and chores, but honestly, I think that can be counted as for you as well, they _are_ your socks after all ─ ”

“Merlin, please tell me you don’t use magic _in the castle_ to complete your _chores_.” Merlin gave him a sheepish smile, and Arthur groaned, letting his head fall back against the dirt wall. “It’s a miracle no one’s found out yet, honestly.”

“Hey, I’m actually really subtle when I want to be, thanks,” Merlin said, affronted. “No one’s found out yet, I still have my head on my shoulders and all that.”

“Subtle is the last thing you are, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur laughed, “what you are is extremely lucky.”

“Oh, so luck is the reason I have to clean your socks constantly, is it?” Merlin gave an exaggerated put upon sigh and looked up. “Well then, I’d rather not have it, thanks.”

Arthur snorted, shaking his head. “We’re going to have to work on making sure you actually lock the doors when you do your chores, aren’t we.” The hum that Merlin gave was an answer enough. Another thought occurred to him, and he couldn’t help but ask. “If you have magic, why bother being my servant at all? You could gain so much more in another kingdom, one where they actually accept you.”

At that, Merlin just shrugged. “I was born to protect you.” Arthur raised his eyebrows, because honestly, magic or not, everything about Merlin didn’t really scream _protector_. Merlin nudged Arthur’s leg. “Oh don’t give me that look, I was! I’m meant to help you, I was born to.”

“You were born to learn magic and go to a kingdom that hates magic and protect it’s prince?” Arthur asked sceptically.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “No, clotpole, I didn’t learn it, I was born with magic.”

The smile that had managed to stay on Arthur’s face dropped, and a stone settled in his stomach again. “That’s not possible,” he said stubbornly. “You can’t be born with magic, it’s a choice.”

The look Merlin gave Arthur was sad and made the stone grow larger. “Sometimes, yeah, it’s a choice to practice magic.” Merlin turned to look up at the blue light. “For others… we can’t help it. It’s as a part of us as our blood and breath are. Though I’m not sure there’s ever really been someone like me before. Mum said that I was making things float hours after I’d been born.” The look on his face was almost shy, and Arthur would’ve teased him about it if it wasn’t getting so hard for him to breathe.

Magic wasn’t always a choice. Some people were born with it… _Merlin_ was born with it. _Oh gods_ , Arthur thought, his head spinning. _How many people did we burn for just existing? How many ─_

“Arthur!” Oh, Merlin was talking to him. And shaking him. And kneeling in front of him? When had he done that? “Arthur, you need to breathe. Look at me, get out of that head of yours. I told you you were going to hurt yourself if you kept thinking, didn’t I, you royal prat? Come on, if you die because you hyperventilated, I’m never letting you live it down.” Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, and drew in a large breath. “That’s it, look at you, you can breathe again. Isn’t that nice? Even a dollophead like you can breathe.”

“Merlin ─ ” Arthur gasped, reaching out blindly. Merlin grabbed his hand with his own, and Arthur opened his eyes to look at Merlin. “How many innocent deaths have I helped cause? Merlin, how many ─ ”

“Stop that,” Merlin said sharply, squeezing his hand. “Stop. Their deaths lay on your father’s shoulders, not yours. You cannot control the laws your father puts in place. You cannot control the fact that your father despises magic. All you can do is learn from your father’s mistakes and try to help as many as you can in the meantime. Their deaths aren’t your fault.”

Arthur shook his head. No, he couldn’t not take some of the blame. He was still Prince, he still had some power. If he couldn’t use his power to protect innocents, to protect his own people, then what good was he? If he couldn’t protect Merlin from his father, how could ever be the king his people needed him to be? He wanted to ask that, he wanted to ask Merlin all of that (because Merlin always knew what he needed to hear, always knew how to help him), but all that he could say was, “ _Merlin._ ”

Merlin smiled sadly at Arthur, and brushed a bit of his hair off his forehead. “It’s not your fault. I promise, Arthur. You’re meant to be an amazing king, I know you are. You’ll lead Camelot into a Golden Age like no one has ever seen, and you’ll do it with the love for your people in your heart.”

Merlin’s words were sure and strong, but Arthur could only take in his voice, not his words. He was too busy gripping onto Merlin’s hand, trying to convince himself that despite his existence being outlawed, Merlin was still there, with him, alive. His father hadn’t gotten to him, hadn’t figured Merlin out despite it all. “Merlin, I need you to promise me you’ll be careful.” Merlin nodded, but Arthur shook his head. Merlin _needed_ to understand. “No, Merlin, listen to me.” He leaned forward, using his other hand to steady himself on Merlin’s shoulder. “I won’t be able to stop my father if he finds out. I ─ I _need_ you to promise me you’ll stay safe.”

Their foreheads were pressed together, and Arthur could feel Merlin shiver. “I promise I’ll stay safe as long as you are,” Merlin said, his voice low and comforting and Arthur completely blamed his next actions on Merlin’s voice.

Arthur pressed forward, pressing his lips against Merlin’s (something he had wanted to do since forever, something Arthur had wanted but never taken, but now he couldn’t help himself because _yes,_ Merlin is alive and here and kissing him back ─ )

They pulled away from each other, breathing heavy. “Good,” Arthur managed to say, not letting go of Merlin. “Because you’re not allowed to get away from me. I forbid it.”

Merlin laughed and pressed another kiss to Arthur’s lips, then his cheek, then his forehead (because they could do that now, kissing was allowed now between them ─ ) and smiled. “Duly noted, sire,” he murmured against Arthur’s lips. (And Arthur did not ─ oh hell, yes he did shiver at that. Sue him, he was still getting used to having this.) “C’mere,” Merlin said, and then he was tugging and pulling Arthur onto the bed. Arthur let out a little laugh, letting Merlin arrange them until he was laying flat on the cot, Merlin curled up next to him with his head resting on Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur bent his head to press a kiss to Merlin’s head and wrapped his arms around Merlin as tightly as he could. After they laid there for a few blissful moments, Arthur asked quietly, “Could you sing it to me?”

“Sing what,” Merlin muttered into Arthur’s neck, and Arthur wouldn’t be surprised if it was magic that was running up and down his spine.

“The song your people sing,” Arthur said. Merlin lifted his head and tilted it in the way that made him look like a small puppy (and maybe he would tell Merlin that one day). “Because you’re not alone. I won’t let you be alone again, not while my father’s law still stands, and not after. Not even within Camelot’s walls.”

Merlin’s eyes were shining with tears, and Arthur squirmed a little, trying to not say something to lighten the situation. “Sap,” Merlin said with a watery laugh, rubbing at his eyes.

Arthur just smiled and took Merlin’s face in his hand, brushing any of the fallen tears away and pressing a kiss to his forehead, then his nose, then his lips (because he could do that now). “If you tell anyone, I’ll put you in the stocks for a month.”

Merlin snorted and put his head back on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur could feel Merlin’s smile against his neck. “Royal prat,” he said, but there was fondness in his voice that made Arthur hug him tighter.

Then there, in a hidden underground room in an enemy kingdom, on a cot and curled up together under Merlin’s light, Arthur let himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of Merlin’s voice and the song of his people.

(And if Arthur memorized the song and it’s lyrics and it’s melody to hum to Merlin for future reference, well, no one needed to know but the two of them. Not until the sun set on his father’s reign and rose for his, and the future that they would make for each other.)

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos and comments :D i've never posted a fic before, so i am desperate for affirmation :)


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